


7 Ways to Say I Loaf You

by keyflight790



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Kissing, Love, M/M, Top Harry Potter, love of carbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-15 06:57:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15407493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/pseuds/keyflight790
Summary: A 30 days challenge, but I only made it 7: Ways I Want to Kiss You - plus some really awful bread puns that I apparently kneaded in my loaf.





	1. Naan but you

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely Prompt from Bere Rjs and the Drarry Facebook Group, Drarry: Fanfiction and FanArt. I own nothing except for my love for these guys, and my love for carbs.

 

He spotted Harry as soon as he turned the corner from Carkitt Market to Diagon Alley.  His black robes billowed in the late November air, crisp with the last bit of fall.  Glasses firmly in place, and hair completely out of place, Harry began to walk in his direction.

Potter's steps were strong, focused on his target.  It was so unlike the cautious paths he used to walk, when his destiny was set and his life was a mere device to end the destruction.  The scowl on his face, however; Draco recognized that scowl.  He had seen it every day for seven years.  

He watched as the surrounding patrons whispered and pointed.  He could hear words like  _Hero_ and _Chosen One_ and  _Savior_ , but Potter didn't even notice.  Harry didn't glance to his left at the group of women who were practically fanning themselves in his presence.  He didn't look right at the photographer, even when the flash practically exploded in his face.  His eyes remained straight, emerald green meeting dark grey as he walked directly on the path leading to Draco Malfoy.

Draco's heart beat rapidly at his approach.  He nervously bit his lower lip, watching as the powerful wizard walked right to him, directly towards him, finally facing his school nemesis.  He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't take them off of the man.

"Hello, darling," Harry leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Draco's waiting lips.  

Draco exhaled, not even realizing he'd been holding his breath throughout the approach.  He looked down, eyes sparkling as he saw a large smile now rested calmly across Harry's face.  He leaned into his partner, pressing their foreheads together.  

Another explosion of light reminded Draco of the photographer.

"Are you sure you want to eat here?" he mumbled to Harry. 

"Yes," the raven-haired man replied as confidently as he had the first time he had said those three beautiful words.

He kissed the blonde's lips one more time before pulling out the chair for him at the little outside bistro.  "I want everyone to know."

Draco blushed, before leaning in and taking Harry's hand.  He was trying his best not to think about the buzz of the surrounding crowd. 

"Now, tell me about your day."


	2. Don't Baguette Me

"Sometimes, it's nice to miss you," Harry whispered, nipping lightly at Draco's ear.

Draco rolled over, facing his lover.  "Really?  I just got back from a month in France.  You want me to leave again?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "Of course not," he replied, wrapping his arms tightly around the lithe man.

"But when you're gone," he mumbled suggestively, "I get to think about you."

Draco shook his head.  "You don't think about me otherwise?" he asked incredulously.

Harry bit his bottom lip.  This wasn't coming out as romantic as he had hoped.  Time for a new tactic.

He grabbed Draco's shoulders and pushed him flat against the sheets of their shared bed.

"When you were in France," he started, placing light kisses on Draco's forehead.  "I got to daydream about you."

Draco lifted his eyebrows as Harry continued his trail of kisses down the side of his face.

"I imagined you at a tiny bistro, the sun sparkling against your skin.  Drinking a cappuccino, wearing your red beret."

Draco wrinkled his nose.  "Harry, I would never wear a beret."

"Well, you were in my fantasy," Harry continued, trailing his tongue across the clean-shaven jaw.

"Oh, really?" Draco grunted as he felt his partners hardness press gently against his thigh.

"What else was I doing in this fantasy, while you were missing me?" Draco encouraged.

"Well," Harry began again, his face flushed with excitement.

It had been a while since they had discussed their wants, their needs with each other.

"You were at this little table, and the waiter came over.  And he's all fit, and suggestive about the size of his baguette-"

Draco sat up sharply, causing Harry to tumble almost off their spacious bed.

"In your FANTASY, I'm cheating on you?" Draco barked.

Harry regained his footing on the bed.  His eyes squinched together.  He thought this would be romantic, a great way for them to reconnect after so long apart.  Forcing his head into his hands, he let out a large sigh.

The two sat in silence, Draco staring forcefully at Harry, and Harry curling himself into a vertical ball.

Finally, Draco reached out, hand gliding softly against Harry's knee.

"I just, I wouldn't do that," he croaked.  "I don't want you to think that when I'm gone, I'm  _unfaithful_."  Draco's body shuddered at that last word.

Harry reached out, grasping Draco's hand in his own.

"I know you wouldn't," he responded dolefully.  "I trust you," Harry added as he leaned in and kissed the hollow of Draco's throat.

Draco groaned, leaning back into the mattress.  He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Harry as the brunette began to bite softly against his collarbone.

Harry continued to cover Draco's throat and chest with tiny bites and kisses, laving his nipples before returning his mouth to the tender spot behind his ear.

"So then how does this fantasy end, Harry," Draco asked, his voice gravely with increasing want.  His hands were roaming freely against Harry, caressing his shoulders, drifting down to cup his taut arse.

Harry grinned as he felt Draco's arousal once more against his thigh.

"Right.  The waiter is talking about his baguette-"

Draco growled.

"and you say, no thank you, I've got a perfectly hard baguette at home."

Draco stilled his ministrations.

"I don't get it," he stated blandly.  "Why would I want hard bread?"

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes.   _And everyone thinks I'm the dense one_ , he thought to himself.

Pushing up on his hands, Harry looked directly into Draco's eyes.

"I'm the hard bread,"  Harry conveyed, rutting his hard cock against Draco's chest. "I fantasized that even though I was far away, you still missed me.  You still thought of me."

Draco smiled wide as he rolled them over, pushing Harry against the bed.

"Don't worry, Harry, I can't forget you," Draco chuckled before pressing his lips firmly on Harry's.


	3. You're Toast

Harry wrapped the worn Gryffindor scarf tightly around his neck before kicking solidly off the ground.  He relished the first moments of flight; watching the ground disappear beneath his feet, the slight flip of his stomach as he gained altitude.

Leaning to the left, Harry made large sweeping circles around the pitch.  He leaned back on his broom, taking a moment to admire the scenery around him.  He could see the large path of the Circular Walk surrounding Tunbridge Wells, surrounded by the large sloping hills of the Sussex countryside.  The peaceful town was exactly where Harry had always wanted to call home.

A large whizzing sound suddenly nipped his left ear.  He joggled partially on his broom, ripped quickly from his reverie.

"Game on, Potter," Draco shouted as he whipped past, eyes razor-focused on the fleeing snitch.

"You wanker!" He hollered at the lithe blond. 

Harry angled his body closer to the tip of his broom, pushing his momentum forward as he propelled himself towards the golden-haired boy and the golden light.

He caught up to Draco after mere moments.  His face was red from the biting cold, his fingers practically numb as they gripped the hard wooden handle.  Harry didn't mind; after all, he knew how this game would end.

Draco quickly dodged right, pulling his broom upward as he shot higher into the sky.  Harry started to follow but hesitated.  He knew Draco's tricks, knew that sometimes he would feign left just to distract his opponent.  He instead slowed, searching the sky for another glimpse of fluttering wings.

It seemed he made the right call.  Draco was now hovering 50 feet higher, scanning the same sky.  He chuckled softly to himself, glad that he hadn't fallen into the Slytherins trap.

It was then that Harry saw the slightest glint of gold, flitting towards the edge of the pitch.  He repositioned himself sturdily on his broom before beginning his ascent, lavishing the feeling of cutting rapidly through the crisp air.

He could feel Draco behind him, drafting in his wake.  He grimaced, pushing himself further, forcing his broom to fly faster.  The snitch was only yards away, and Harry was determined to make it there first.

At the last moment, however, Draco veered to the right.  Harry felt the air shift around him as his opponent shot around him, pushing closer and closer to the target.  Harry watched painfully as Draco's pale fingers closed around the tiny ball of light.

"Haha, Potter!" Draco screamed triumphantly, holding the golden snitch high above his head.

They drifted back down to the softness of the earth below before dismounting.

Draco walked promptly over to Harry, placing his hands securely around the brunette's hips.

"Great flying, love," Harry praised, as he leaned in to nuzzle the warmth of Draco's neck. "You won!"

"I did, indeed," Draco murmured, tilting Harry's head up and emerging him into a deep kiss.  

Harry languished in the heat of Draco's mouth, warming his frozen lips with a swirl of his tongue. 

"Now to collect my prize," Draco smirked, placing a hard slap swiftly on Harry's arse.

Harry flushed just thinking excitedly of what the night would bring, and quickly Apparated them home.

 


	4. Knead Me in the Darkness

"Shit," Harry yelped as his shin backed into sharp metal. He pushed the cabinet back to give them more room, widening his stance. 

It was the third time this week that Harry and Draco had sought out their darkest cravings in the third-floor closet. The files stored there were at least 10 years old, which made interruptions almost a non-issue.  The fact that it was still potentially a public place still gave a quick edge of urgency to their provocations.

He pushed Draco hastily across another cabinet, peeling his trousers back to reveal his pale arse.  Harry wished there was more light, only catching glimpses of the taut perfection through slivers of light framing the closed door.  Brandishing his wand, Harry conjured a thick paste of lube across his fingers.  He traced his hand across the cleft of Draco, tracing softly around his fluttering hole.  

Draco jerked, slamming his hand forcefully against the surface of the low cabinet, his head almost hitting the wall as Harry grazed and teased.  Harry could see his hands attempting to grip the slippery surface, unable to ground himself from his deep urges.  

His back arched as Harry slipped one finger in, just up to the knuckle.  He twisted steadily before pulling back out, swirling the finger once again around the rim.  

"Potter, get on with it," Draco grimaced, bucking his arse against Harry's hand encouragingly.  Harry's hand gripped Draco's hip, the only location he was permitted to cling to.

He bit his lower lip, wishing he could see Draco's cock.  He yearned to see the hardened length, pulsing with need.  He wanted to grasp, to lick, to swallow, to praise, to worship.

He wanted to bite his neck, to leave marks, to see those marks days later when they were sitting in boring meetings or writing boring files.  To know that he did that; that Draco let him do that.

He shook his head quickly.  That's not what this is.  This was reserved for the darkness, hidden from their desires.  They never kissed.  Quick fucking was the only thing allowed in the confines of the tiny room.

They never talked about their  _filing_ , which is what Draco always would say when he was in the mood.  

_Hey Potter, I need to get some filing done.  Just because you're The Chosen One doesn't get you out of paperwork._

_Our new case sounds like that one from the '80s.  Let's check the files to see if they're the same._

Or Harry's favorite; the one where he caught Draco shifting awkwardly the day after he got his haircut  The stylist had put a few potions in it to try to manage the locks, but it had the opposite effect.  Harry couldn't get his cut to cooperate again for at least a week. 

He caught Draco's eye from across the room and was rewarded with a slight raise of his eyebrows.  Draco was on him as soon as the door closed, pulling at his hair, as Harry opened him up quickly.  Draco's orgasm had overcome him quickly, long fingers never leaving Harry's hair as he shuddered with pleasure.

After they were done with the closet, they would both straighten their robes and pretend as if nothing happened.  As if they didn't have each other's sweat in the most inappropriate places.

Harry didn't love it.  He loved the fucking, of course.  Draco was fit, his arse was beautiful and tight and what man wouldn't love that.  It's just that he always felt uneasy afterward.  He spent his days with unasked questions and unfulfilled answers.  He didn't ask, though.  He didn't want it to end, no matter how horrible he felt every time he left their darkened room.  

Draco moaned beneath him as Harry carefully inserted a second finger.  He ached as he watched his fingers slide in and out of that glorious hole.  He never wanted to stop hearing those cries of pleasure.  His eyes felt prickly as he stared wantonly as Draco shivering beneath his touch, only a shadow, a glimmer of the man he wanted, he needed.

Harry closed his eyes.  Breathing in deeply, he withdrew his hands.  Draco whined at the loss of touch before Harry grabbed his shoulders.  He spun the man around, forcing him to face Harry as he shoved Draco hastily against the cabinet, the back of his head now banging forcefully against the wall.

"What the bloody hell!" Draco yelped as gentle hands reached around to cradle the blondes head.  Harry launched forward, his nakedness jutting against Draco's for the first time.  

The feeling was incredible.  Harry couldn't see but he could feel the hardness of Draco against him, pulsing with heat.  He ran the pad of his thumb gently across his slit, slick with Dracos' heady juices. 

" _Potter_ ," Draco's voice sounded stern, but Harry could detect the slight gravel beneath his firm tone.  Harry shifted the lithe man, positioning his hands once more against his quivering center. 

The sliver of light no longer reflected across Harry's slick fingers; their new position cast the strand of light directly across deep grey eyes.  Harry stared, watching the wide-eyed expression of the fellow Auror as he continued his assault on the sensitive chasm. 

It was the first time Harry could see, could watch, as Draco's eyes rolled back when he grazed that spot.  He ran his fingers carefully over his prostate once more, massaging lightly, admiring the flittering of light eyelashes as lids closed in bliss.  

Draco moaned, his hands grasping the edge of the cabinet as he hoisted his hips higher.  "Please," he cried.  "Please, Harry."

Harry gasped, hearing his name from invisible lips.  Grey eyes dilated into almost completely black pools shone in the whisper of light.  He lined himself with Draco before entering the taut ring of muscle.

"Y-Yes," Draco moaned, wrapping his arms securely against Harry's neck as he continued to push smoothly into the tight channel.  Harry shivered, feeling the strong chest pressed against him.  His hands cascaded around Draco, feeling his hips, gliding up to his nipples.  He scraped each with the nail of his finger as he felt the blonde tighten around his cock.  Harry leaned in, licking below Draco's ear, nibbling a path across his jawline.  

Once Harry was fully seated, he wrapped Draco's legs securely around his waist.  He wanted, he needed to be closer, as close to this man as he possibly could.  Wrapping his hands around Draco's lower back, he leaned in once more.

"Tell me what you need," he growled low, emphasizing his first name as he breathed hotly against his ear.  Harry knew he was taking a chance, but he had seen the lust, the hunger in Draco's eyes.  He felt the want, saw the same urgency in those grey pools that Harry knew were reflected in his own.  

The shard of light no longer glowed against Draco's pale skin.  He couldn't find those eyes in the darkness, only able to see the slight shadow of the man in his embrace.  Instead, Harry relied on the feel of slick skin beneath his hands, toned arms wrapped around his neck, ankles latched behind his back.  He thought he would feel Draco tense, feel him push away, feel him dress and escape, out into the hall, never to approach their tiny space of darkness again.

Instead, he was blessed with the feeling of lips, pressing urgently against his own.  He felt Draco's tongue hungrily try to explore as Harry opened to him.  He felt hands run vigorously through his hair, yanking him down, closer to Draco's yearning mouth.  

"I need you, you twat," Draco grunted, lifting his pelvis, encouraging him to move. 

It was the most glorious thing Harry had ever heard.

He captured Draco's smart mouth in his own, his tongue swirling as he began to thrust.  Draco continued to grind his hips with every blow, increasing the friction of his cock pressed against Harry's naked chest.  Harry knew he wouldn't last long, his senses on overdrive in the darkened room.  

"Harry, I'm-I'm going to," Draco shrieked, bucking even harder as his climax overtook him.  Thick spurts of cum spilled across Harry's chest as Draco panted against his mouth.  

The muscles around him tightened as Harry pushed his tongue into the heavy breathing, following Draco over the precipice.  His moans were swallowed by eager lips as Harry climaxed deep inside of Draco's core.  

Harry held onto Draco, not wanting to let go, even as his softened cock slipped out from the wet heat.  He rubbed his jaw against the tender flesh of Draco's neck, feeling him shiver at the rough stubble. 

He placed chaste kisses up his jaw before resting his lips gently on Draco's.  The urgency had disappeared, and Harry luxuriated in the feeling of softness.  He explored slowly with his tongue, nipping gently at his swollen bottom lip.  Draco kissed back, tenderly, slowly, as if he too were relishing the feeling, like eating an ice cream cone on a hot summers day.

He thought about it; thought for a moment about saying those three words as he held his love delicately in his hands.  He knew that's how he felt, and after seeing Draco's want, his need for Harry, he knew he was loved in return.  Harry also knew he had a bad habit of running straight into the fire, without allowing the water to dampen the flames.  One risk was enough for today, he thought, as Draco unwound himself from Harry's skin.  

He placed cleaning charms on the both of them before they reassembled their robes.  Once dressed, Harry opened the door, allowing bolts of light to enter the cramped space.

He glanced at Draco, noticing the deep flush in his neck, his hair a tangled mess.  Harry licked his lips, wishing they could have one more go at  _finding those files_.  

Maybe he would run through a smaller flame, first, he thought with a quick nod.

"So, Draco," he asked as he closed the door, leaving the darkness behind him and glowing confidently in the light.  "Can I take you to dinner?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Draco smiled, before sauntering away.

"Coming, Potter?" 

Harry grinned as he followed Draco down the hallway, toward their brightly lit offices. 


	5. Hot Cross Buns

The unfamiliar room was still clouded by the heavy weight of darkness when Draco stirred.  His eyes drifted slowly open, peering for some semblance of light that dared to wake his slumber.

It wasn't the sun rising that woke him, however.  It was the blasted heat.

Every inch of Draco was sweating from the warmth surrounding him.  It was like a fever was pressing against his entire back, infiltrating his exposed skin.

Draco kicked his legs, trying to push off whatever unwieldy quilt or blanket was currently restraining him, but no matter how he thrashed, the heat simply followed, wrapping around him tighter and tighter.

Then Draco felt it.  He felt him, the want of him, his demanding naked need on the small of his back.

 _Potter_ , he grumbled to himself.  He was in Potter's bed, on Potter's sheets, wrapped in a bloody Potter-heated blanket.

His senses were now adjusting, becoming acuity aware of the toned, rippled man draped around his body.  He could feel the muscled thigh pressing along his own hip, heel hovering dangerously close to Draco's own building erection.

Rough hands pulled Draco closer as Harry nuzzled his head into the crook of his pale neck, biting tenderly against his earlobe.

"Good morning," Harry stirred, his voice gravely and hot against Draco's ear.  A shiver ran down his spine, goosebumps suddenly erupting over his arms and legs.

He shifted, rolling himself to face the raven-haired man.  Arms wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling him in closer to the warm embrace.

Draco felt the moan rumble across Harry's chest as their morning urges rubbed against each other.  His hips bucked unconsciously, searching for friction against the bare skin. Hands began to journey over his body, beginning an exploration of every muscle, every crease, every bit that Draco had to offer.

He lifted his head, allowing tantalizing lips to kiss his own.  He gasped into the headiness, the yearning, the hunger that he felt from Harry.  

"So _insatiable_ ," he teased, as he felt hands, those hands, reaching for his arse.  

Perhaps Draco didn't mind the heat after all.


	6. Anniversaries are Crumb-y

It had been ten years; Ten years after that fateful day at Hogwarts.  

Some days it felt as if the war had happened in a different lifetime.  As if the dark mark on Draco's arm was merely a bored scribble with a quill during a boring staff meeting, and his scar was from a haphazard dueling accident.  Some days it was easy to ignore.  Not forget, certainly not forget, but maybe tuck into a box, and place on a high shelf.  Turn off the light, shut the door, even if it was just for a moment.

Other days, dark days, days like today, Harry was compelled to open the lid.  Comb through the thoughts, the memories.  Let the names of those who died rest on the tip of his tongue.  Remember their smiles; try and hear their laughs.  Chronicle their pieces of advice; labor over their last moments. 

Some days, there was too much to fit in a box, or a closet, or the entirety of Grimmauld Place.  

When Harry woke up that morning, he knew it would be one of those days. 

He padded into the kitchen, bare feet on the cold tile floor.  He wore his old school pajamas, red and gold tartan, the bottoms so worn and threadbare that they skated high on his ankles.  Yearning for comfort, Harry wrapped a thick, cashmere blanket around his naked chest.  He held a corner to his nose, breathing in deeply.  It smelled like Draco; cinnamon and oranges, with the slightest hint of mint.  It was the most comforting smell in the world.

He made two cups of tea, one with just a touch of milk, the other with at least three sugars.  Walking into the sitting room, Harry handed a cup to Draco before situating himself on the couch.

"I want you to fuck me," he said blandly, blowing on his steaming mug before taking a sip.  

The room was silent, as Harry continued to drink his tea as if he hadn't just proposed random morning sex on the anniversary of the worst day of both their lives.  

Correction: it wasn't Draco's worst day.  Harry shuddered inwardly, thinking of the greatest wizard he had ever known, cast backward, falling, falling, falling to his death. Still, it was certainly in Draco's top five.   

Draco took a deep breath before setting down his tea, not touching a drop.  

"Harry," he looked earnestly into his lover's eyes.  "Fucking is not going to make it better.  It's only going to delay the pain."

"I-I just don't want to feel it, Draco," Harry said, his voice hitching with panic as tears began to well in his deep green eyes.

Tenderness washed across Draco's face as he held out his arms.  Harry welcomed the invitation, crawling into the warm embrace, snuggling close to the familiar chest.  Draco lowered his mouth, placing a tender kiss on Harry's head.

He began to rock him, pulling the blanket closer to his tender skin, wishing he could wrap a blanket around Harry's bleeding heart. Draco's hands coaxed his shoulders, rubbing calming circles along the tight muscles.  

"I should have saved them," Harry whimpered, the tears flowing freely.  Draco didn't respond.  It didn't matter how many times he had tried to convince him otherwise, Harry always returned to this.  It was best if he let him express his feelings freely without interruption.  

Draco held Harry as he continued.

"Then Teddy would still have a mother.  Andromeda would still have a daughter.  George would still have a brother.  You would still have a father."

Draco tightened his hold.  That last one was new.  His bottom lip quivered as he pictured his father.  The last time he saw him, in that dark cell, so frail, so weak.  Draco had received the owl not even a month later, the funeral following shortly after.  

It wasn't until the salty tears had begun to drip off of his jaw that Draco realized he was crying.  It felt like an old cut had reopened, the blood flowing freely out of his veins.  Part of it was terrifying, but a small part felt almost liberating.

Harry felt the soft drops against his forehead.  Lifting out of his secure cocoon, Harry kissed the tears off of Draco's neck, tracing the path up his jaw.  Adjusting his weight in Draco's lap, he placed gentle traces of kisses across grey eyes and wet cheeks.  

He then placed a tender kiss against Draco's trembling lips.  He closed his eyes as Draco kissed back, the pressure of mouths and tongues connecting their grief.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered.

"We've both been through some shit," Draco attempted to smile as he pulled Harry closer, as close as he could get.

"We'll be ok."


	7. What are we Doughing Here?

"What the fuck is this?" Draco spat surly, staring at the grass stains that were gathering around the edge of his robes.

"I told you not to wear that," Harry chuckled as he watched the blonde try to  _Diffindo_  the lawn beneath his feet.

The sun was setting low on the horizon, casting the surrounding field in dark shades of pinks and oranges.  A breeze filled the air, providing slight comfort after the heat of the day. 

Harry watched in awe, as little specs of light surrounded the wizards as they ventured through the tall grass.  Harry held open a glass jar, attempting to catch the little glimmering balls before slamming down the tin lid.

"We're catching fireflies, Draco," he responded, showing Draco the tiny flitters of wings inside of his container. 

He had wanted to do this since he was little, catching glimpses of a romance movie on the telly.  The couple had looked so in love, staring dreamily into each other's eyes, kissing in the summer glow.  Harry had wanted to have a moment like that, a perfect moment, where he was with the one he loved.  He used to daydream about the field, the fireflies, and the hand he’d hold.  It had seemed like such a fantasy, but even when he was in that tiny cupboard, stomach growling, dirt under his fingernails, the thought had given him hope. 

Draco rolled his eyes.  "Yes, you've said that."  He paused to flick a bug that had landed haphazardly on his shoulder.  "What I don't get,  _Potter,_  is why we are out searching for light when a simple  _Lumos_  would do?"

Twisting the lid on his full jar, Harry stared at the flickering glass with wonder.  He laced his fingers between Draco's, squeezing tightly.

"It's not about the need for light, love," he smiled thoughtfully.  "It's about being here, sharing this moment, together."

He leaned over, pressing his lips against the man he loved.  Draco’s eyes drifted closed as he deepened the kiss, wrapping his free hand around Harry’s neck. 

It was perfect, just like Harry had always hoped it would be.

 

 


End file.
